Spacetrip
by hellburner21
Summary: Following the events of season one and two, Clarke and the rest of the 100 wake up back on the fixed and stable Ark.
1. Chapter 1

Episode 1: Spacetrip

 **Prologue:**

Something short circuited, or at least that was how it felt to Clarke. A quick zap of electricity to the back of the scull and the entire forest melted away before her eyes. The sky, the trees, the memories, all faded into a strange hungry fog. The darkness fed on everything, suckling every part of the world around her, everything she'd ever touched and every one who'd been in it.

Clarke tried to fight it, but suddenly she was so tired, she wanted it all to leave her.

She let the nightmares go first, it was easiest to release her regrets. The lever in Mount weather, Lexa, Finn, the garden of graves in front of the drop ship, it was all easy to give up. The clean air, shooting stars, the sky, and rushing water was what meant so much more. As she fought for it with all she had, all the tenacity and strength she'd had to refine on Earth, the darkness in Clarke's her mind and began to drag away something even more precious. The 100. They were the last to go, but Clarke was tired, more tired than she'd ever been. It was as if she was being held down by the exhaustion from all her days on Earth simultaneously and eventually it took over and she lost it all to the fog.

 **The Ark:**

"Griffin's awake," someone whispered. Clarke tried to open her eyes, but her mind was fussy and her limbs felt like rocks.

"Clark," whispered a voice. "Clark, baby, it's all right."

"Mom?" she coughed and blinked as much as she could until a clear vision formed before her. Her mother was seated in front of her. Small solar flares passed between them through one of the ark windows.

Clarke could feel the familiar plush cot beneath her, but there were no windows in med bay. She would know, she'd been coming there since she was able to walk on her own. Watching her mother work was something that used to fascinate her, she remembered that. She remembered her father, the floating, solitary confinement, but everything after was fuzzy, like someone had put up a wall between her and the rest of her mind.

"Clark, we were a little worried. You were one of the last to wake up," Abby sighed, sliding her palm around Clark's cheek and smiling. Clarke tried to smile back, but her lips felt numb. They seemed to have switched places, now her mother was watching her instead.

"Where are we?" Clarke wheezed.

"Take it slow baby," Abby cautioned and let her hand fall away. "We're on the Ark."

"What? Where else would we be?" she laughed a little and shook her head. "I meant where on the Ark."

"Do you remember anything from while you we're sleeping?" Abby asked, standing up. Clarke heard her hitting commands on one of the monitors, but she couldn't get control of her muscles enough to roll herself over and see what it was for. "Some of the other kids said they had dreams, specifically similar ones. Even some of the adults, including Raven Rays and Kane."

"Raven and Kane? Mom what is going on? Where are we?"

"We're in the mess hall. It's been converted for sustained life support while you all slept."

"Slept? Mom," Clarke pulled on her mother's lab coat and forced her eyes up while she dropped into a whisper. "When was I moved out of solitary?"

"You really don't remember?" Her mother bent down to look at her again. "You were moved along with the others. All one hundred of you were taken from the Sky Box and placed in here along with the other civilians. You were so scared. You thought they were going to float all of you. I had to calm you down, explain about the sleeping chambers, how we'd created space for everyone and arranged to divert life support to this room" Clarke flicked her eyes around what little she could see. Medical cots as far as she looked in any direction.

"Are you remembering any of this?"

Clarke shook her head as the wall onside her mind seemed to come alive and fought back against her. It pounded until the back of her eyes hurt. She shut them as hot tears began to slide out. It was all so confusing. She was so overwhelmed.

"We put everyone into induced comas. To save on resources," Abby continued to explain, pulling a needle out of Clark's arm. "You slept for months, everyone but the medical staff, select members of the engineering crew, and Jaha. But we got it fixed Clarke, the Ark is _fixed_."

"But Dad, Dad said it was impossible," she stammered.

"It should have been," her mother agreed. Her hand settled in Clarke's and something cold slid against her palm. Clarke opened her eyes and found a watch between her mother's hand and hers, her father's watch. For some reason, she had expected it to be broken. It wasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

"You won't have to go back to the Sky box," Abby assured her as they walked through the rooms of their home. It was just like Clarke remembered it being before her father died. She swore the chairs had even been left in their place from the night Wells and his dad had come over to watch the game. Clarke ran her fingers over the dining table. "In light of the mechanics miracle, you've all been pardoned, all one hundred of you."

There it was again the cold knot in her stomach that seemed to surface when the other kids were mentioned. It made her head spin, probably just another side effect from the drugs that had been keeping her asleep for so long. Abby had said that they'd used different mixtures on groups of people to maximize the number of civilians that could sleep. Not all of them were clinically tested, but it was better than floating a section full of people in order to reserve oxygen. It did mean that the side effects the sleepers experienced were highly individualized. Clarke wasn't sure what she'd feel next, but it did explain why groups of people had similar hallucinations while under the influence.

"They converted some of the other gathering spaces into temporary mess halls. The other kids have been meeting in one. It's sort of a support group for them. Maybe you should go."

"I don't know," she sighed. Her head began to pound again. She tried not to think about the wall in her mind, but the thought of the others made her want to remember the time being pulled out of solitary. She wanted to remember their faces, but nothing came except the pain. She sat down at the table and held her head.

"Wells has been going," Abby told her, sitting down beside her and passing her a bottle of some pain pills. Clarke couldn't help wondering if everyone with spinning heads got them, or just the ones with mothers on the council. The thought made the cold feeling resurface. "He's been asking every day if you've woken up yet. When you did yesterday, he wanted to see you."

"What?" Clarke asked, though she wasn't sure why. She knew exactly who Wells was. She could even picture _his_ face, but thinking about him still made her head hurt, her head _and_ her heart. She popped a few pills and looked at her mom. Abby took one of her daughter's hands.

"Clarke, your father made a mistake," she said slowly. Her gaze held steadily on Clarke's, but she couldn't hide the shaking in her voice. "I hate it too, but after all of this, can't you forgive him? Wells didn't do anything wrong. Your father or you could have caused a panic we didn't need. We got it fixed. The Ark is alright. Now you can be too."

Clarke stared at her mother. Something was wrong, or it was more like something _wasn't_. The last thing she could remember she would've never forgiven Wells for not keeping her secret, but now all that pain was gone. The cold feeling in her stomach and the roaring pain in her head had replaced it. That, and an overwhelming desire to see her best friend.

Clarke was still braiding her hair back when she walked d out into the hall. Something about the strands of hair between her fingers felt wrong. Twisting and tying it back in the ordinary way was strange. Even as she walked around the corner and let the rope of hair fall against her back, the way it hit her neck all tied together surprised her. But what was more unexpected, was the voice that followed her around the bend in the hallway.

"Clarke!" his deep, but shaky voice called out to her. Clarke flipped around, sending her new braid whipping toward the side of her neck.

"Wells," she breathed. There was a momentary pause of her headache and chill as her eyes burned and began to tear.

"Abby told me you were awake," he muttered shaking his head as he rubbed his hand on his neck like always. "How are you feeling?"

He wasn't through asking the question by the time Clarke had slammed her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tight enough to link her fingers together behind his back. Wells's hands found their way around her waist as he hugged her back.

"So, I take it you're not mad at me anymore," he asked. She buried her face in his shirt and sucked in a breath to try and answer him, but it sounded more like a whimper through her tears.

"Clarke, are you crying?"

"Yeah, I don't even know why," she muttered, pulling back from the hug to wipe her nose. "I do forgive you. I don't know what changed, but I want to be friends again. Wells, I _need_ to be friends again."

Her voice cracked and she lost control of whatever she'd been hanging onto to hold back tears.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, we can be friends again," he told her, looking at her like she was exactly as crazy as she felt. She was crying for no reason. She forgave him for no reason. He got her dad floated and all she wanted was another hug.

"Okay," she told him and went in for the extra hug. She pushed her nose against his shirt again. "Okay."

"Where were you headed?"

"The old games room. There's a group there. . . "

"You mean the one hundred."

Clarke's tears stopped and the cold in her stomach resurfaced immediately. She brushed away what was left on her wet cheeks and nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

The room was crowded, all elbows and hair as far as Clarke could see. It was standing room only with so many of the kids pushed together, but they didn't seem to mind. They all chattered away with each other as she watched from the doorway.

Wells stood with her, waiting for her to be ready, but Clarke feared she might never be. She heard all their voices, pinpointing the individual sounds of near one hundred teenagers with no real strain; it was like she'd been prepared to hear them. The pain in her head and stomach returned keeping her at bay in the doorway, waiting on relief that wouldn't come.

A girl with dirty blond hair and dark brown eyes glanced back at the figures lingering behind her, blocking the entrance. Her eyes flashed with something new as they landed on Clarke. She whipped back around and shoved the boy in front of her.

"It's Clarke," she hissed, "Clarke Griffin." The room erupted with the whispers like wild fire, an entire room hissing her name, muttering 'Clarke'.

"It's the prince and princess," someone finally said.

Clarke's fingers found their way to her eyebrows as her head pounded so much, she feared it might break. It was strange; she'd always hated that nickname. _Princess_ , like she was somehow so far above them. She was privileged, yes, but on the ark even privilege only got you so far. It certainly hadn't done her father any good.

Clarke glanced at the prince beside her, the one who'd gotten her father killed. She _still_ wasn't mad. Even the nickname didn't bother her as much as it should have. It hadn't been said so viciously either, like it had when they were younger. She didn't feel any resentment now, maybe it was the aftereffects of the drugs still floating around in her system. Still, no matter the memories of being teased and ignored, or the years of just her and Wells against every kid their age, when the faces in the room turned to look at her, she was relieved to see them.

They parted like she really was a princess, every pair of eyes in the room locked onto hers. Wells hand clasped onto her shoulder as she stared into their faces. The others were all still whispering, but she hardly heard them. Clarke was watching a wave of dark brown hair shove her way through the parting crowd to the front.

The girl stopped in front of the prince and princess - _though it was really more like she'd jumped in front of them and stuck the landing._ The girl had a strange amount of energy. Despite the deathly serious glare in her gleaming green eyes, her other features practically bounced.

"Clarke have you seen my brother?" the girl blurted and stepped a little closer. They were nearly the same height.

"No one has a brother," someone muttered.

"That's Octavia Blake!" someone else called and the girl seemed to cringe. "She's the girl they hid under the floor for sixteen years."

"Look, princess, you were the last one out of the sleep chamber," Octavia continued as Clarke tried to ignore the strange feeling the girl gave her.

"There were a few still asleep when I left, he- he could have been one of them," Clarke stammered. "But I... I really don't know."

"What did your mom say?"

"Ah," Clarke muttered, biting her lip. She tried to hide the pain spotting her vision, but Wells leaned in when her balance suddenly wavered.

"Hey," he whispered. "We don't have to stay. We can go."

"Clarke?" someone else interrupted. A boy with dark, narrow eyes and shiny black hair cut between a few people to her right. Another boy, with goggles on his face, stumbled along behind him. Both were thin framed and gangly, but their wide eyes stared at Clarke like she had her own solar system. That was the last thing she saw before her vision suddenly blacked.

"Ow," she hissed and grabbed her head, which was a bad idea because it left her without the ability to catch herself when the floor fell out from under her.

"Clarke!" someone called and both boys reached out to catch her in a net of their arms. "What happened?"

"I uh," Clarke tried to explain, pushing the strangers away as her sight slowly returned. "Thanks," was all she said. She didn't owe them anything.

"Clarke," Wells echoed worriedly.

"I'm fine," she tried to assure him, standing on her own, and she _was_ fine -mostly... The pain in her head was clearing, but the knot in her stomach continued to make her shiver slightly, worsening the longer she looked around at the vaguely familiar faces.

She caught her eyes roaming them, _searching_ them. It was as if her eyes were playing a game, but her mind hadn't been told the rules. _What am I looking for?_ She couldn't seem to find it in any of the one hundred different sets of features, although Octavia Blake seemed to come close.

"Alright there, Princess?" someone sighed as Clarke was pulled back by her braided hair. The tenor voice belonged to a slyly smiling boy with a floppy head of brown hair. Clarke's own hair fell into her face as she watched him. He pointed at her nose before she could answer. "You look better that way, more natural."

"Great now give me my hair tie back," she muttered, but the boy slipped out of her reach and laughed.

"This is Finn," Wells explained, catching the boy by the shoulder of his coat. Clarke couldn't take her eyes off of him and it made her gut roar with an almost painful chill and her fists clenched to keep her composure.

"I prefer, Spacewalker," the boy assured him and let Wells rip the simple ribbon out of his hand.

"You wasted oxygen," Clarke said, but her eyes still seemed to care enough to linger on him and so did his on her. They locked gazes as Wells gave Clarke her ribbon back. She tied her hair back again, without breaking their stare.

Finn's eyes were intense, looking _into_ her, not at her. She felt her heart begin to race, but something inside pleaded with her not to pry her eyes from his.

It was the same feeling she'd gotten when she'd forgiven Wells. It was an unexplained force of emotion, telling her what she wanted, and this time, she wanted to look at this boy's eyes and let him look back. The lively spark in his challenging stare was enough to keep her in his gaze as long as he wanted.

"It was fun," the boy continued when he finally blinked. "Besides, the Ark's fixed anyway. No harm done."

Clarke thought about her head and wasn't sure that was true, not that Finn was to blame. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at his lower station attitude, worried only about his own day to day existence -or in this case boredom.

Clarke and Wells had been raised to consider the welfare of the Ark population first, individuals second. The fleeting thought of her father crossed Clarke's mind, but she pushed it away quickly and tried to refocus on Finn.

"Alright Finn, quit hogging her," Wells grumbled.

"Yes, your majesty," the boy sighed and bowed. Wells took Clarke's arm and shifted passed before Finn could look back up. She smiled once at Finn and finally turned away, but Clarke felt her head pull back and her hair flopped down over her shoulders again.

"So Clarke, what are we going to do?" asked the dark haired boy, pushing up beside her again.

"Yeah, what's the plan?" insisted the boy in goggles as he leaned in closer to her. Clarke took a half-step back, or at least as far as she could in the crowded room.

"Um… I don't know, what do you guys normally do when you meet?"

"Clarke, these two are from agriculture station, Monty and Jasper," Wells tried to clarify, although it really didn't explain why they were suddenly looking at her like a piece of broken equipment –and not just any old hardware either. These two were staring at Clarke the way Abby had looked when her father said the Ark was failing.

Clarke reached up to her head again as whatever was inside fought too hard to get out. She shuffled back, forcing her way into the people crowding around her. Wells tried to follow her, but so did Jasper and Monty.

"I –I don't think I'm going to stay. I need more rest," she stuttered then twisted around and fought her way back out through the crowd without waiting for Wells to follow her.

At night, everyone was under curfew. The whole station was silent, aside from the incessant hum of the Ark engine, which seemed louder than usual. Clarke tried to ignore it as she passed through the corridors. She made her way around, staring at the walls and ceiling, taking in every crack and scrape that she'd already memorized as a child. She didn't know what she was looking for, or why she thought going out might help her sleep. She'd just done it.

Barefoot, she slunk through the halls. Station by station, she walked around, doing nothing but walking and looking. Every turn or two, she'd run her hand along the walls. The whole place seemed so empty, so cold, so strange.

 _What am I looking for?_ She knew the answer was something familiar. _Familiar? I've never spent a second outside these stations._ Everything _is familiar._

She heard a door open and jumped behind a corner. She knew it was only a matter of time before one of the guards came across her on their rounds. It had been several stations now, and she hadn't seen anyone. She pushed her head back against the wall and figured she could just tell them she'd been sleepwalking. It wasn't really a lie. Sleepwalking was a possible side effect of the medication she was taking.

She pushed a loose hair back behind her ear and looked around the corner. One of the civilian quarter doors was hanging open. Two people stood in the hall, embracing. Clarke pushed out from behind the corner. She recognized the long brown hair of Octavia Blake on the back of one of their heads.

The other was a mystery, but his stature and black, curly hair set Clarke's mind on fire. The throbbing in her head was replaced by her heart beat as the young man lifted his head and set his sky blue eyes on hers.

"Clarke," Octavia whispered, seeing her. They pulled out of the hug slowly and the girl backed toward the door, watching both of them, but Clarke and the young man stood still. She looked at how his eyes set against his freckled face as he looked back at her.

"This is my brother," Octavia continued. "Um... Bellamy."

Suddenly, something snapped. The cold in her stomach, the pain in her head, everything except her racing heartbeat was gone. Clarke stepped forward, so did he. _He's familiar_. She knew it more and more certainly the closer he came. She'd been looking for _him_.

They walked the hall between them slowly, but sure in their destination. He was still wearing clothes from the sleep chamber and his feet were as bare as hers. There was no sound in the hall as they moved, only their eyes, locked on each other, and the pounding heartbeat echoing in Clarke's ears.

When they met, his arms were already wrapping around her shoulders. She slid hers around his waist and stayed there, holding each other up for a moment, as if neither of them had been doing a good enough job of it on their own. Then she pulled back to see his eyes again, but not enough to let go.

Clarke slipped onto her tiptoes as he leaned down. She shut her eyes and they pressed their lips together, delicately at first, then harder. He pulled her in tight and held her close to him. For the first time since she'd woken up, Clarke felt like things might be alright.

 **End to episode one.**

 **Stay tuned for episode two...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Episode 2: Bloodlust**

Four Months Prior...

She had snow on her boots and summer in her hair. Despite the warming sunlight that heated her trek, the mountain paths were still spotted with mounds of ice, as if spring had never come. It had, and it had been the one blessing along Clarke's slow and trying journey to the grounder capital.

She stopped at a tree and shook out her knife hand. She didn't dare put her weapons away while she was still walking, something she'd learned the hard way a few days into her trip.

Her knuckles still hurt from beating the last grounder she'd interrogated.

The time she'd spent with Lexa had increased her grounder vocabulary, but not enough to convince anyone she was anything other than a Skyperson. So she'd had to get the information she'd wanted the hard way over the past few months.

 _Lexa_ , the name was like an arrow to her generally numb mind. She told Bellamy she needed time away from their people that she was shouldering the burden of what they had done to get them back safely. He must have thought she was wandering aimlessly somewhere, hiding out under the stars at night, trying to find herself.

Despite his own history if bad decisions, she somehow just knew Bellamy would never suspected her of anything vengeful. She felt guilty about that, though she tried not to. Most days she'd kept her thoughts basic and the rest of her fell into the same instinctive numbness, but over the last few days, the closer she came to the grounder capital, the more she began struggling with what she was about to do.

The once pacifist girl had been planning her destination all along, but now she was actually about to enter the lion's den. She just hoped she'd be able to get close enough, because the closer she came the more her thoughts seemed tainted by her poisoned feelings for the grounder leader.

Her steps were becoming weighed down by the ghosts from mount whether, and most of all, from the stain of the lie that still hung on her lips. She'd said "may we meet again," to Bellamy like she was coming back, as if he could rely on her to come back and help him with their people. But there was no way the grounders were allowing her out of their city alive –not after she killed their commander.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a tower stretching out of the horizon and the closer Clarke came to the capitol, the more she could see that it was an ancient skyscraper. The Grounders had built their capitol over the remains of an old Earth city. The sky girl had never seen anything like it. She stood on a hill beyond the front gate for a moment, simply watching.

The grounders beyond bustled about inside the walls of their city. Buildings covered in moss and vines were crowded together in groups with paths running between them. Carts and horses raced through and around the many structures. Tents were pitched on the corners with vendors shouting out to the many passersby. The streets themselves were crumbling and unkempt, but they were roads, _real_ roads, branching out in every direction, spidering out through the city further than Clarke's eyes could see. She'd never even imagined anything like it.

"Move!" someone shouted in thick grounder tongue, but the word was English. Clarke rolled back into some bushes as a wild cart drove over the hill. Decorated in fur and antlers, it looked like a monster as much as the massive size and long hair of the horse pulling it.

Quickly, Clarke took her chance. She didn't think, didn't speak, hardly even breathed, before scrambling to her feet and running behind the cart. The cart wobbled over a bolder and Clarke used the rock for a boost. She jumped off and grabbed onto the back of the cart, slamming her face into the side as it swayed under her.

"Gah!" Clarke grunted and gritted her teeth. She shook off the pain and held on.

When the cart reached the gate she jumped down and began to run her hands along the belly of the thing. She seen enough to know that an merchant or grounder leader worth their weapon had a hidden compartment under their carts. It was a long shot that no one would check, but it was worth the risk, if it meant she had a chance of getting in the gate unseen. For all she knew, Lexa had given the whole capitol her description, _just in case_.

 _Ah ha!_ A small latch gave way and the floor dropped out from under the cart. There wasn't much room, but the sky girl let out the air in her lungs and managed to squeeze in. She was thinner than she used to be. Even when things were bad on the Ark, everyone still had their portions -those who didn't trade them. Out in the wild on her own, there was no guarantee, no other kids to help her hunt. She was on her own and she'd paid the price in body fat.

Clarke squeezed as she squished into the hiding space. _It must be a merchants cart. This place is too small for a person_ , she thought and began running her hands over the side of the inner lip, looking for the second latch that closed from inside. _Would there still be one if this wasn't made for people?_

She found something and a wave of relief crashed over her as the opening began to shut, but her relief was immediately replaced by a jolt of new fear as the cart floor above her opened instead. A young grounder was staring down at her with big green eyes under his shaggy, long, blond hair.

"Hey!" he gasped.

Clarke just froze. She didn't know what else to do, she could jump out and try to get him before he got her, but there wasn't much room for her to move and he clearly had the upper hand. _Quiet literally, in fact._

"Come on, get out of there," the grounder continued. His accent was thick, but different than she'd heard. Before Clarke could wrap her thoughts around what he said, he had bent down, grabbed her arm and pulled her from the small hiding place.

He threw her against the inner wall of the cart as she struggled to get a better hold on her knife.

"Hey!" he grunted and hit her wrist, smacking the weapon from her hand. It wasn't exactly the only one on her, but it _had_ been the only one in reach.

The grounder forced his palm around her neck and made her to look at him.

"Who sent you?" he growled in English. _Why English?_ "Was it the commander?"

When she didn't answer he pushed her back again smacking her skull back on the cart wall.

"Who do you follow?!"

"No one!"

"Not likely." He dug the spikes of his glove into her throat, just enough to cut skin. She choked and tried to push him away.

"If you're going to kill me do it," she spat, faking a grounder accent as best she could. "Better you than the commander's guards."

The grounder's hand loosened. He blinked back at her. Something had changed in his face; he looked suddenly conflicted. He didn't talk and after a while he let his arm drop entirely, but he grabbed a knife from his boot and pointed it at her chest.

"What did you do to anger the commander?"

"That's not really your business."

"If you want to get through those gates, you'll tell me."

"She was really just Lexa to me," Clarke finally whispered, running her hand over her bloody throat. She hoped using the commander's name would imply what she wanted it to.

"Oh," the grounder sighed. His eyebrows rose to the top of his forehead as he sat back slowly, looking at her. _That actually worked?!_ "Is that who you are here to see?"

"Yes and no."

"Well, I happen to have the same destination, you can join me if you like." His tone had changed completely, setting Clarke's teeth on edge. Interest had replaced his paranoia so quickly. _What does he think I might know?_ A scorned lover might say anything about the commander, but Clarke wasn't really a scorned lover, or at least that wasn't _all_ she was. _What does he need to know about Lexa?_

Suddenly the cart jolted to a standstill and the grounder grabbed Clarke's arm again. He threw her against the opposite wall this time, so she sat across from him.

"Don't speak," he growled. She nodded and pulled her coat collar over her scratched neck.

The door flung open and a pair of grounder sentries, laden with furs and spikes, glared in on them. They wore the same masks that Lincoln had worn so long ago. The fleeting thought of Octavia made Clarke's heart bleed more than her neck. She had betrayed her so irrevocably at the bombing of Ton DC. Now, she'd never get the chance to change that, but maybe, just maybe, word could get back to the camp about what she was going to do. If she succeeded maybe it would help Jasper and Octavia think differently about her. Maybe it would take the burden of what they'd done off Bellamy and Monty, at least a little. Maybe she could set things right, especially now that this grounder was helping her get inside.

"I am Ice Nation representative here to speak with your commander," the man grumbled at the guards. Clarke looked him over again. The Ice Nation was responsible for the death of Lexa's first love. _Why would she be willing to talk to them?_

"And the girl?" a guard grunted.

"She mine."

"Then you won't mind if we see both your wrists?"

"Wrists?" the grounder asked, but Clarke hardly heard over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. She still had scars on her wrist from the bracelet tracker she'd been sent down with. Every member of the one hundred had them, everyone except Bellamy...

"It is a precaution we have taken. No doubt your leaders have heard of the sky people. Some of them have marks on their arms." The grounder looked at Clarke again, seeing how she pulled down her sleeves. So did the guard.

A snap resounded through the cart as the sky girl's knee collided with the guard's nose, breaking it. The man stumbled back, slapping at the blood, but others took his place. Clarke tried to push them away, but a hand settled on her shoulder and forced her out of the cart.

"Take her," the Ice Nation grounder growled. "I have no desire for trouble."

Clarke glared at him as he returned to his seat in the cart. He shut the door without looking at her again. A guard pushed down her sleeve, revealing the marks on her wrist.

"You're a little far from home, sky girl," one of them whispered. He was holding his bleeding nose. "You must be tired. We'll let you rest." He raised his arm and the next thing Clarke saw was the world going dark.


	6. Chapter 6

The cell was dark and wet. Clarke stood in a puddle because it was the cleanest place she could find. Her hands and head were sore from where she'd been hit and how she been bound. She had no food, no water –aside from what she was standing in, and she had no idea how long she been where she was. _I was stupid to think this would work._ She'd never get anywhere close to Lexa. _I might never get out of the cell._

It wasn't long before Clarke got tired of standing and began leaning against one of the slime slick walls. Visions of the past months floated through her thoughts, always starting after she last saw Bellamy.

The images flicked through a highlight reel of her memories and ended in her cell before replaying. She couldn't bring herself to think beyond those months. All that time alone, planning and learning, had only managed to land her here, so near to her goal, yet so far away. Was Lexa close? _Am I even still in the capital?_

There was so little to know, and as hard as she fought the visions to remain on the loop they'd begun, she couldn't fight the image of the grounder commander any more than she could fight the exhaustion weighing down her head as she let it settle against the cell wall.

It had been hard to think of anything the way she'd first seen it. The Ark was now in pieces, Jasper was forever burned into her mind surrounded by the corpses of the Mount Weather civilians, Octavia's once young and girlish voice now swore over and over in Clarke's mind that she'd never forgive her for the bombing of Ton DC. Even Clarke's own mother's image was washed in the blood of her father. Everything was tainted, or at least _, it should have been_.

She could have drowned in her sorrows and pain, or raised herself up on top of all the changes to be stronger, but the truth was as impossible to hide from as the smell of her jail.

 _Lexa_ was unchanged, untainted. Nothing Clarke could think or feel had changed the vision of Lexa that poured through the rest of her thoughts.

Unlike the others, Clarke pictured Lexa as she had first laid eyes on her. The worrier commander sat on her throne and stared down the world like the ruthless leader she was.

The only difference was the light. It had been night when Clarke had been first allowed into the presence of the grounder commander. Now, even as she stood in a prison, thinking better of it, Clarke saw Lexa bathed in a pale dawn light that streamed in behind her. It was the same light that had framed her the day Lexa had made her feelings clear, _the day she'd kissed Clarke_.

The way her image hovered in the Skygirl's thoughts, she knew even less than she had before. _Would I even have been able to go through with it?_

"Skygirl, "someone grunted and Clarke raised her heavy eyes to see a grounder guard entering with a torch to light his way. She moved her hand up to block out the blinding light and the grounder grabbed her by the collar and dragged her forward.

"What are you doing?" was all she could think to ask. There was no reply. Clarke struggle against the hold as best she could, but she couldn't even truly see where she was outside of what little light the torch gave.

"Where are we?!" she tried again, but the outcome was the same.

Suddenly light bust forth from above. The doors to the outside flew open, revealing a long staircase leading up from the depths of the strange prison. The guards hand fell away as Clarke watched the opening in awe.

A figure stepped through from the bright beyond. A figure with a long billowing coat, waving hair and powerful eyes. Clarke felt her heart both leap and break as she gazed upon the commander of the grounders, framed by sunlight, awaiting her at the top of the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author Note:**

This is a small update, but it has come to my attention that a passage between ch6 and 7 wasn't uploaded, so now it's here. I hope it makes more sense now. Ch8 to come soon (ish).

 **Episode 2 con.**

It was strange, seeing Lexa. It was almost like a dream. Everything seemed to blur around the two of them. It became so strong that Clarke started to wonder if she'd been drugged.

"Why are you here Clarke?" Lexa asked in her usual calm, dark tone. Clarke had only heard her steady voice waver once or twice. She didn't expect to hear it ever again.

"You invited me," she muttered, adjusting her hands within the confines of their bindings. The guard to her left shuffled slightly.

"That was..." Lexa's voice faltered. Clarke couldn't help her lips curling up into a cruel smile, displaying the bittersweet turmoil churning inside of her.

"Before you betrayed me and abandoned my people to be used for spare parts?"

"Yes," was all she said. Her eyes were locked on Clarke's, unwavering, unchanged.

"Lexa," Clarke hung her head, exhausted from all the emotion, all the travel, all the pain that the young woman had put her through. Even now she could feel the ghosts of Mt Weather looking in on them, watching to see if she had the courage to avenge their deaths.

 _Blood must have blood._

She shut her eyes.

Before Clarke could open them again, something had turned her chin up for her. A pair of lips pressed against hers. The motion was soft, feeling; nothing like it had been in the war tent months before. This had a new feel, a strange timid quality as if Lexa was waiting for Clarke to make her decision, but she was too shocked to think.

Lexa's kiss was filled with emotion, not passion, but it was enough contact to send Clarke's hardened thoughts reeling. She had no idea what to do. She should have pulled back, or maybe she wanted to move closer, but she stayed where she was and let the commander kiss her.

When it was over, Clarke opened her eyes. What she found was just a girl, standing before her. The great grounder commander had disappeared underneath layers of her young age. The youth they shared was left between them as the two teenage girls looked at each other and waited.

Lexa was just a girl, she made decisions and ran with them, just like Clarke, and for the first time Clarke saw the girl for what she really was, and the world as it was as well.

 _One more death will not wash away the blood that already stains my hands._

Later:

It felt strange to bathe. Clarke couldn't remember the last time she'd felt as clean as she was. Lexa had allowed her to clean up and provided her with food, but neither of them spoke directly to one another.

They hadn't even been able to hold each other's gaze, and they certainly hadn't kissed again. The sky girl wasn't sure if she had a specific opinion on that yet. She _wanted_ to have one. It would be easier to be disgusted or excited by Lexa, but for now, she had to settle for being sure she didn't want to kill her.

It felt strange to discard the idea so completely after allowing it to drive her for so long. It was as if she was thinking clearly about things for the first time in months. The grief and guilt were still shadowing her, but she could see through it. Killing more wouldn't lighten her load, her death wish wouldn't fix anything or bring anyone back, and she might have started another war, or worse if she'd succeeded. It would have only caused more pain, more death, more blood on Clarke's hands.

Lexa had helped her see that. Lexa had led her through the dark back into the light. Clarke wasn't sure she understood what that meant for them, but it was better than hating her.

"Commander," someone grunted from the doorway, driving both their eyes up. Lexa stood from the chair she'd barely perched herself in.

"Yes?"

Clarke realized suddenly that they weren't speaking English. She was so tired still. It was difficult to keep track of who was speaking what.

"The Ice Nation representative is waiting for his audience."

Clarke choked a little on her food.

Lexa spun around almost immediately, her hard eyes filled with what Clarke hoped was concern.

Normal people looked like they wanted to help when someone started to choke, but as the sky princess and the commander locked eyes for the first time since their kiss, Lexa looked more ready to destroy the food that had made Clarke gag. Fortunately, the fiercely protective stare melted away when she saw the choking was minimal.

"Ready a room for Clarke," she growled at the grounder and stalked out of the room without further addressing Clarke.

Later that Night:

Clarke followed a few grounder guards to the top of the skyscraper. She liked getting to see more of the building, but it was so late, why would Lexa want to talk now? She couldn't help glancing out the windows to see the expanse below. Everything seemed so small, so insignificant… and maybe it all was.

"Skygirl," one of the grounders grunted. He didn't seem to speak much English, that or he didn't want to. He motioned to a set of doors that must have led to Lexa. Slowly, Clarke stepped up to the doors and let her hands settle on the door handles before forcing it open as far as she needed to slip in.

The room inside was dim, lit by candles instead of torches like the rest of the building she'd been in. There was a carpet laid out like a path, leading to a set of steps at the foot of the commander throne. Lexa sat on the throne, as usual, but the rest of the room was empty. There was a balcony open to the night beyond the throne so that the chair cast snaking shadows across the rest of the throne room.

"The Ice Nation wants to talk peace," she said, hardly turning her head to look as Clarke walked into the throne room. She stayed silent, looking at the commander, draped across the seat like a blanket stitched together from strength and power. "What do you think, Clarke? I want your council."

"I think they should be cautious entering into a truce with you." It was a knee-jerk reaction. The wound Lexa had left on her at Mouth Whether was still too fresh, too fragile, but when the commander's eyes snapped to attention and finally found Clarke's she didn't see a commander. She saw a woman with the weight of a world on her shoulders, so she added, "But peace is better than war."

Lexa sat up suddenly.

"You don't understand, Clarke."

"What?"

"The terms," Lexa growled. "She wants territory. The Ice Queen demands TreeCrew and that includes the SkyCrew camp."

Clarke took a step closer, but Lexa stood and looked away.

"It would seem that peace for my people comes at the expense of yours once again," she said.

"You didn't need my council to make a choice at Mount Whether," Clarke reminded her, and Lexa's eyes flashed with something besides candle light.

"Do you think this is the same Clarke?" she asked, walking away from the throne.

Clarke started to follow, but Lexa suddenly froze.

"She took Costia from me. Now she wants to take you too," she snarled, turning quickly her growl became a roar as she spun. "Rah!" she shouted and whipped her leg around, smashing her boot into the throne, sending it toppling over.

Lexa stood still, panting for a moment, looking at the fallen chair. Clarke watched as the commander's shoulders heaved and her eyes narrowed. Then suddenly, she turned and walked to the window and let the moonlight wash over her form.

The skygirl moved closer. She walked up the steps and past the fallen throne as she watched Lexa's silhouette freeze once more, this time with her back to Clarke. The room was so quiet, Clarke could hear the sound of the capitol streets below between her footsteps.

"Clarke, I love you," Lexa said without moving a single muscle to move toward her. The sky girl's stomach twisted… so did her heart.

"The last person who said that to me was Finn, and I killed him to save him from you and your people."

"Clarke…" Lexa finally turned to face her.

"No," Clarke said, stepping back when the commander took a step forward. "You wouldn't take me in Finn's place, you convinced me to let bombs drop on TonDC. You change me, and then you abandoned me to be used for parts by Mount Whether alongside my friends. You –you don't get off that easy."

Lexa kept walking, even after Clarke backed into the arm of the throne. She stopped only when there was less than a breath of space between them. The firelight flickered in her eyes as the moonlight painted her back. She was the light in the dark, and Clarke stood in the shadow of the throne, feeling her heart beating, literally pulling her across the small distance between them.

"What about that do you think was easy?" Lexa whispered in a low, quiet growl.

Clarke watched the truth in the commander's eyes and listened to the promise of danger in her voice. Then she broke the barrier between them, leaped across the chasm of power and distrust they'd hollow out over the past months, and pressed her lips to Lexa's, surrendering at last to the force of her heart pounding against her chest.


	8. Chapter 8

It was almost dawn and the throne room candles had melted to nothing. Clarke and Lexa sat on the floor of the balcony, wrapped in each other's arms. The sun was coming up over the mountains in the distance, bathing them both dawn red.

"If you look, over that mountain," Lexa whispered and kissed Clarke's cheek. "That bit of smoke starting to rise is home. TreeCrew lands, your drop ship, and your mother's camp."

Clarke pursed her lips and pulled herself off Lexa.

"Clarke," she whispered and moved closer. Clarke put her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"What are you going to do about the Ice Nation?"

"My people should come first," Lexa sighed, running her index finger down Clarke's arm. "I want you to be my people." The commander pushed her forehead against Clarke's and leaned in for another kiss.

"I can't." She shook her head and looked away. "My mother, my friends, I can't leave them."

"You already have."

"This isn't the same thing."

"Clarke," Lexa growled. "You left them. They're not your responsibility anymore. Stay here."

She paused to cup her hand around the sky girl's cheek. Clarke let the commander guide her back to facing one another.

"Stay with me," she whispered. Clarke's eyes met Lexa's and she held them for a long time. "I love you."

"I…" Clarke started, but it just wasn't there. There were too many other feelings in the way. "I love my people."

Lexa's hand dropped from Clarke's shoulder like something bit her. The skygirl took the opportunity to shrug away and leave the balcony. She crossed the room and picked up her coat from where Lexa had thrown it.

"If you agree to stay," Lexa said, slowly pulling herself to stand. "I will make different terms with the Ice Nation."

Clarke froze.

"You don't know when to stop acting like a commander," Clarke sighed. "I'm not something you can negotiate, Lexa."

"You're people are," Lexa matched, her eyes narrowing.

"Don't threaten me."

"Don't leave me."

"You left me first," Clarke took a step back.

Lexa looked away and walked toward her throne. She grabbed the sides and pulled it back into place.

"And here I thought you'd forgiven me," she said and forced the throne off its side and back onto its feet. She paused to stare at it. "My mistake."

"I said you wouldn't get off that easy."

"And then you kissed me," Lexa pointed out, sitting down in her chair.

"Lexa, I can't stay here and watch you turn my people – _and Indra's_ into bargaining chips," she paused and looked away from Lexa. "Not again."

"Fine, you're free to go. After all, you came to see me."

Clarke looked back up.

"I came to kill you."

Lexa sat down in her throne and settled into it.

"I said you're free to go."


End file.
